


Luminous beings are we

by SharKohen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Future, HEA, TRoS Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21920791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharKohen/pseuds/SharKohen
Summary: TROS Spoilers (probably)What’s a little time to a Jedi anyways?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Luminous beings are we

**Author's Note:**

> Will come back and edit grammar. Hopefully.

~~~0~~~

There was an old woman, they said, that lived one of the homesteads not too far from Mos Eisley. Not much was known about her, really, but the rumours that floated from home to home.

Some said she was a fugitive, perhaps from one of those ‘First Order’ folk on the run from the new one – whichever regime has replaced them, anyways. Others said that she was mob boss, hiding out in the desert under a false name while running her syndicate in her deceptively simple residence. How else could one explain the strange speeders that always landing around the homestead, with foreign folk of strange grab going down and coming up to the little house that she had? No honest moisture farmer could be inviting such riffraff around.

Most just said that she was a crazy old witch, and if the Tuskens and Jawas knew how to steer clear of her, they’d best do the same too.

But Dilli Garrotag was a young girl, and the young often do foolish things, especially with their peer egging them on. She was seven years old now, almost all grown up, and she wasn’t going back down from a _dare._

No, she would march into that old witch’s house, alright. She would march right in and steal something, and scurry back to her playmates, proving once and for all to the horrid Hurran and Halin that she was _not_ a coward.

She didn’t take the front entrance – it was sure to be locked anyways. She scaled her way down the walls into the courtyard - only doing a cursory survey of the area, of course. Releasing her grip from the roughened bricks and hopping the rest of the way down, Dilli darted behind a nearby crate. Cautiously, she sticked her head around the side of the crate. There was no one in sight.

She had seen the old woman fly off in the morning, in some kind of ship that had been quite old and very ugly. From her previous observations, Dilli knew that the old woman’s trips out of town were always always long, spanning weeks to months even. It would give her enough time to really look around the place, and swipe something striking – something that will wow the boys, so that they’d never leave her out of their games anymore. Not that their games were particularly good or enticing, but Dilli didn’t appreciate being left out for any reason.

The first room that she had checked turned out to be refresher, so she had been quick to move on, only to find a rather boringly normal kitchen and dining area. For all the tales of the sorcerers concocting potions or spice-traders illegally processing serums, the old woman’s pantry was full of nothing other dried goods and cured meats.

Disappointed but determined, Dilli made a beeline for the next chamber. As the door creaked open, her eyes widened.

It was a little dark, even with the streams of sun-rays peeking from behind the blinds, so Dilli waved her hand over the dashboard to turn on the lighting. Now she could better scan the array of books that lay scattered over the tables – actual books, made of paper and parchment. She crept over to one, unable to keep herself from gasping in wonder as she noted the fascinating sketches, curious symbols and hastily-scribbled inscriptions. Some of the pages were half-finished as well, with the pen that had been inscribing on it cast carelessly next to it, waiting to complete what had been started.

Along the walls were many shelves, and each held many a bizarre sight. There were what seemed to be exotic figurines, glimmering ornaments and odd-looking contraptions. Some of the things she saw sent unexpected shivers down her side, while others held her attention so long that she had almost forgot why she had come at all. 

Then she had spotted an ornate little cube, hidden behind a carved idol, a host of beaded necklaces and a wooden wooden apparatus that was possibly a musical instrument. It was on one of the higher shelves, so Dilli had to climb onto a rather unsteady stool, then onto another unsteady table. Stepping carefully around the tools and knickknacks over the stone surface, she stretched her hand out to the unassuming box that had piqued her interest.

And then she found herself wobbling forward.

Letting out a screech, Dilli just managed to break the fall by catching onto one of the shelves, leaning her weight against it. A gasp of relief escaped her lips, until it hit her that she had a new dilemma.

With her fingers pressing down on the shelf and her tip-toes jammed against the edge of the table, there was no way she could get out of her current position without her entire body smashing against the sandy-stone floor.

For the first time in her life, Dilli really considered the merits and folly of being baited by her peers, and found the former wanting.

Well, given that she was stuck in this predicament anyways, she might as well see what was in the box after all.

Gingerly, she propped herself up to her elbows. From this awkward angle, she managed to roll the cube towards herself. Tapping on it, she was disappointed to find that for how mysterious it looked, it didn’t do anything.

And then she heard, from somewhere within the compound, the distinct sound of a door slamming shut.

Not even allowed a moment to consider what it might be, Dilli startled, and disturbed her precarious equilibrium.

Her body swung simultaneously forwards and downwards, making her knock into the shelf, rocking it from its steady stance. The girl let out a screech as she found herself falling, and the shelf tilting ominously over her as she did. Mentally, she braced, because physically she couldn’t move quickly enough to do so.

As Dilli descended in what certainly was going to be the rather ungrand and pretty stupid end to her life, she was surprised to find herself floating in the air, with the shelf and its contents floating over her.

“It’s generally considered rude to enter someone else’s home without being invited in,” she heard a wry voice remark. Twisting her head towards its source, Dilli found herself staring at a cloaked old woman – the one they called the crazy witch of the desert.

Yet in all the time that she had taken turns spying with this witch through macrobinoculars, Dilli had never seen her face. Yes, it was wrinkled and worn, ridden with lines from time and desert sun. But nothing about it screamed the menace that she had expected from the old tales. Instead, there was only kindness, and perhaps a bit of amusement.

When the old woman lowered her hand slightly, Dilli was surprised to find herself being lowered slowly, allowing her adjust her position and land on her feet right. With that same hand, just the slight turn of the wrist, the shelf swung back to its original position, and all the curios it held fell back into their original place.

The old woman let out a hum of satisfaction as she drew down her hood, revealing an entire head of white, the strands all twisted into a bun at the back of her head. She regarded Dilli with pursed lips and a raised brow. “Care to explain yourself, young lady?”

“I-I-” was all the girl stammered before her traitorous gaze flitted up to the cube that she attempted snatch.

The old witch had caught it, and smiled. “Ah, I see.” She moved to the shelf, taking up the object that had once been so mysterious, so attractive, but had proven to be quite the opposite. She let it sit on her calloused palm, smiling almost mischievously. “I don’t know what good it might be for you, if you don’t know how to open it.”

With that, Dilli’s brows jumped up so quickly, it was a wonder it didn’t leave her face all together. “It can be opened? Does it have a secret key? Or a special code? What’s hiding inside of it? Treasure?” All that gushed out in a single breath.

The witch – woman let out a chuckle. “Oh, it can only opened by the Force, and I’m afraid it’s not quite a treasure even. Just some instructions.”

Dilli blinked. “The Force?”

And so that was when the old woman had taken to kitchen, poured her glass of blue milk and explained the Force to her – the energy that surrounded all living things, and bound them together. Dilli had heard of it before, but only for people to say that it was all hogwash. But it wasn’t, for it was with the Force that Dilli had been saved from her fall. It was with Force the Great Wars that people spoke of before had begun, and it was with the Force the Great Wars ended.

“So it’s true then?” the girl asked, eyes filled with wonder. “The planet of a hundred star destroyers? The ghost of the evil emperor? The last Jedi who killed the evil supreme leader?”

“Well, some things are lost to time, but there’s a bit of truth there.” A mysterious twinkle appeared in the old woman’s eye. “The planet certainly had more than a hundred star destroyers, I would think. The evil emperor did return from the dead, though it had been slightly more complicated than a mere phantom. And the ‘last Jedi’ hasn’t exactly killed any supreme leaders, and she has made quite a conscious effort, I would say, to avoid being the last of the Jedi in fact.”

Dilli frowned while drinking her milk, trying to absorb all that she had been told the same way. Putting her glass down, she inquired, “But that was so, so long ago.”

“Yes, it was,” the old woman said, a faraway look on her face. “Yes, it was.”

Soon after she had finished her milk, the old woman ushered Dilli out of the compound. “Now, I’m going to make it very clear. I by no means approve of burglary,” her surprisingly gracious host said in a stern voice. “So I’ll be letting you off with a warning, one that I want you to carry to your friends. The next one of you I sneaking in here will be, hmm-” she cocked her head as she pondered “-dropped in the nearest sarlacc pit. You think you could pass that around?”

Dilli nodded.

“Good. If it helps, say something about how you narrowly avoided being cooked alive by me. I’m sure that would spread like wildfire.”

The old woman then bent down, removing a chain from her neck. The girl could see that it was a plain one made of woven cloth, but the pendant that hung from it, though simple, was oddly mesmerising. She asked, “What is it?”

“A little bit of kyber crystal. That’s type of stone lightsabers are made from,” the old woman said as a way of explanation, not that Dilli understood its significant. “Just a little gift, for you to remember that legends are rooted in truths, but they may only tell it from a certain point of view. After all,-” a wry grin that seem to de-age her by thirty years “-I’m not quite so terrible for a witch, am I?”

_‘No, she wasn’t,’_ Dilli thought to herself as she made her way back home. Time had passed so quickly, and perhaps it would do her playmates good to grow sick with guilt as they imagined what had happened to her. She would spin some tale, of course, and pin them down with fear, and they might run off and tell their parents. But really, who would believe anything so ridiculous?

~~~0~~~

The old woman had visitors that night.

Not the ghosts that would pay call from time, but actual, living visitors.

The ones had arrived all appeared a mix of annoyed and concerned, and those two feelings increased in intensity when she invited them to sit down for tea.

“If it’s an urgent matter, Master,” Ll’uan, one of the younger apprentices, pressed, “we shouldn’t be wasting time on tea.”

That comment earned glares from the others gathered around the table, as if they themselves were not thinking the same. Well, _yes_ , they were, but they weren’t going to say it in front of their master, _were they_?

Hin Tha, the Kel Dor and the most sensible of the lot, was the one to speak next, though this time with greater diplomacy. “Master, we know you wouldn’t have called us if there was something important you wanted to share. Please forgive us for being a little anxious.”

“Impatience and anxiety,” their master said as she continued fill the tea cups. “Not the most Jedi of feelings, are they?”

“No, master,” a solemn reply came. “We’re sorry.”

“I’m not reprimanding you – just pointing it out.” Her hands trembled slightly as she made to set down the kettle. The ex-student by her side immediately reached out to help, but it wasn’t needed, for the master eventually managed to complete task.

Urging those in the company to pass the warm drinks around, she sat herself at the chair nearest the fire, rolling back her sleeves. “Even though I’ve taught you all I know, it doesn’t mean I’ve taught you everything. I hardly expect you to be masters of the Force.”

“But, Master,” a confused Twilek piped in, “each of us have been full fledged Jedi for at least twenty years! Many of us served as diplomats, protectors and aid across countless planets.”

“And I hope you would continue to do so, my dear Erisa.” The elderly woman laid a fond hand on her shoulder. “But being a Jedi is more than what we do or say. It’s about connecting with the Force – seeking it, listening to it and trusting it.” She leaned back into her small chair. “There was a time where I had been on the brink of death. I was pulled back, at a great cost.” Her voice grew softer as she reminiscenced. “I did wonder why for the longest time, and even now, I can’t quite understand it.” A heavy exhale passed her lips. “But there are reasons, and there are destinies, and we must trust the Force, and let it guide us.”

It was then that she produced a cubical holocron, laying it down in the centre of the table. All eyes flew towards it, then back to her.

“Now, now, I must confess this doesn’t exactly contain any knowledge of great value,” she chuckled as she saw their wary expressions. “It is in fact just my will.” That earned a gasp from somewhere around the table, and a couple of hastily exchanged glances. “Now, I was planning to just leave this amongst my belongings for you all to find after my eventual passing, but it has recently come to my attention that mightn’t be the most secure way of doing things. And _yes_ , Kuloc, I am anticipating for my death soon. Don’t think I can’t see you whispering down there.”

If the blue-skinned Rodian could have flushed with embarrassment, he would have.

“I’m far older than any humanoid should be at this point, and after I go, I would like my belongings to be sorted out in a certain manner. Given that the Old Jedi order never had this problem — with the whole asceticism thing — I’ve decided that I’m going to trust you,-” she gazed warmly at the seven that sat around her table now, “-my most loyal students, with this.”

No one spoke at first, all clearly still shocked. Their conflict was palatable, torn between _‘don’t say that, Master, you have many healthy years to go’_ to _‘Master, have you had a vision of your death? How? When?’_

Eventually, Hin Tha was the one to take up the holocron. “We will see to it that your will is carried out, Master. You can trust us.”

The old woman nodded. All she said next was, “Who’s up for some roasted bantha?”

The impromptu meeting transformed into a genuine gathering, and everyone who came ended up staying longer than expected. They had all been scattered across the galaxy, after all, and catching up with one another was quite irresistible. Most were so caught up in the conversation that they didn’t notice when their master quietly rose to her feet and departed from the dining room.

Well, _most_ didn’t.

“Master Skywalker?” Ll’uan had followed after her. “Is something wrong?”

“Just a little tired, my dear.” The old woman gave a small smile. “I think I should turn in. Make sure that the fire’s put out and the dishes are cleared, won’t you? Feel free to stay for the night. It is rather late.”

But Ll’uan refused to be dismissed. “Let me help you to your room.”

So the younger Pantoran walked her master back to her quarters. The older woman, though very well for her age, was not adept as she once was, and Ll’uan was shaken by exactly how drastic the deterioration.

“Well, I’ve been using the Force to cheat a little,” Master Skywalker admitted, while Ll’uan helped her into her sleeping clothes. “Just too tired for that now.”

The younger Jedi refused to leave until her master was tucked well in bed, and after then, she was still reluctant.

“Master,” she asked in a trembling voice, kneeling down next to the bed, “are you afraid of it? Of dying, I mean.”

Master Skywalker considered the question for a moment, before saying, “Well, I suppose it would be very different from being alive. But the Force has been me as long as I’ve been alive, and in death, I will be with the Force.” She lay her thin, wiry hand over her apprentice’s blue ones. “As a great Jedi had once said, _‘Luminous beings, are we. Not this crude matter_.’” She reached up to the girl’s face to wipe away the tear that was trickling down. “Death is nothing to fear, Ll’uan. It is merely the passage by which we must pass to enter a complete union with the Force.”

The girl sniffed. “I don’t want you to go, Master.”

“And I won’t. I’ll always be with you. All of you.”

Whether or not she intended it, Ll’uan must have fallen asleep by the bed of her master, for when she awoke, her entire body was aching and her master was no where to be found. All that remained behind was the clothes that her master had worn before sleeping that night.

Scrambling to her feet, the Pantoran girl called for her master, bursting through the doors as she shot from chamber to chamber. Her calls did arouse her groggy fellow Jedi, though it took a few repeated shouts before they understood what she was saying. All of them tore the place high and low, and soon, it occurred to them their master, in her physical and mental declined, might have wandered off in the desert on her own.

Yet as they were scurrying towards their transports, prepared to conduct their search, when someone cried, “Look!”

There, where dawn was just peeking over the horizon, appeared two figures surrounded by an ethereal glow. One was a seemingly-ageless looking woman, with her hair tied up in three neat buns. Holding her by the hand was a man with a curtain of dark hair that brushed against his shoulders. The woman did look back briefly, giving a little wave as she did, before turning to the man and smiling at him.

As the crimson rays broke into the horizon, the two figures vanished.

**Author's Note:**

> ***TROS Spoilers here***
> 
> I am in the camp where I enjoyed TROS tremendously, even though I thought a good deal of it was pretty dumb. Looking forward to seeing it again. q
> 
> With regards to Ben’s death, I was saddened by it but at the same time, I don’t regard it as necessarily a bad thing. He’s kinda the Darth Vader in this series, so it’s a bit hard to justify him not getting executed etc. if he lived. 
> 
> I mean, after watching TLJ, as a pre-reylo, I kinda wanted Ben Solo to die in Rey’s arms either as a hero or villain, and I figured the studio would play it safe and make it like a platonic hug. So honestly, getting a kiss out of this movie + Ben Solo giving his life for Rey (thus making his redemption costly, and thus genuine) + Ben Solo going to Force heaven with his mum (it’s like Leia was waiting for him!!) is way more than I expected, so I’m glad. 
> 
> In my mind, it’s pretty obvious that Rey and Ben will eventually be reunited in the Force afterlife anyways, and he can visit her while she’s alive, so I don’t find the ending of TROS that devastating. Hence this story (and maybe others). 
> 
> I admit it would have been really interesting to explore how a war criminal would go about ‘redeeming’ himself though (and maybe explore that in a post TROS novel, but I guess). But I understand the ending, and I’m okay with it. 
> 
> For all you folk out there who aren’t, however, it’s fine, coz not all movies are gonna fit everyone’s tastes (I read some TFA reylos who didn’t like TLJ, so, yeah). So whether you are super wrecked, super mad, or super satisfied with the ending, let your emotions drive you to write! (or make gifs - whatever’s your style)


End file.
